Better the devil you know
by Reapers-Kiss
Summary: Sam was chosen, long ago, for something huge, and now, Satan has chosen to make his move. If Sammy wasn't going to succumb to his minions pushing, then he would just have to take matters into his own hands...first fic, please R
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER:**_ Don't own Supernatural, Sam or Dean. I only use them for entertainment. They lead intriguing lives…_

**A/N: **_This is my first fan fic ever; so if anything is wrong, let me know. Reviews and constructive criticism will be greatly appreciated. _

_Hope you enjoy. _

**WARNINGS: **_As always, general Sam and Dean angst, hurt and emotions. I don't like the idea of Wincest, so you don't need to worry…rated T just to be safe. _

**Better the Devil you know:**

**Chapter one:**

Sam was roused suddenly into conscious, with barely any recognition of what got him in that state in the first place.

He did know one thing though.

His head hurt like a _bitch!_

"Dean?" he called, not able to open his eyes, for the constant stabbing pain disallowed it.

"How you feelin' Sasquatch?" Came the elder's prompt reply.

"Hurts…my head…what happened?" Sam inquired, daring to open his eyes just a fraction, to see where he was.

Above him, Dean's concerned face loomed, taking up most of his peripheral vision.

"Took a header down the stairs Sammy-boy. You had me worried for a while there," He joked; a grin painting his features, his eyes, however, remained worried.

Sam frowned. "How…" he asked, attempting to rise.

"I _imagine,_" Dean began, pushing Sam gently back into his original position. "That you tripped over those freakishly long legs of yours,"

Sam rolled his eyes, but the movement caused more pain, and he let out a wince.

"You cool?" inquired the elder, now returning to mother hen mode, upon hearing Sam's pained sound.

"Yeah, I guess. It just hurts a bit," he assured. _A bit? Try a whole fucking lot._

"Can you get up? I need to get you back to the motel, so I can fix you up," Dean stated.

Sam nodded, and sat with the assistance of his sibling.

A wave of nausea washed over him, and he tilted to the side, to expel his stomach contents.

Long after there was nothing else to heave, he continued to dry wretch painfully.

Dean was crouched behind his brother, squeezing the back of his neck gently as the sounds of his brother's tortured heaving echoed through the night.

Now spent, he sat gasping, wiping the tears away from his face.

"Sammy, are you alright now?" Dean asked gently, cupping the young man's face and lifting it so that their eyes met.

The younger Winchester's sea-green eyes were filled with pain and confusion. The pupils were also of unequal sizes.

_Shit._ Dean thought, his heart pounding at the discovery of his brother's apparent concussion.

"Can we go now?" Sam rasped, dragging himself to his feet.

Dean allowed the younger man to lean on him as they hobbled through the gloom toward the car.

As the eldest unlocked the doors, Sam leant against the Impala's frame, willing himself to stay calm as pain jumped about in his head.

"Ready to go Sasquatch?" Dean asked from the opposite side of the car.

Sam slid into the passenger side and slammed the door shut.

All he wanted to do now was sleep.

He rested his head on the cold window, and allowed his eyes to slide shut, before Dean reached over and shook him. "I don't think so pal. You have a concussion. You need to stay awake," Dean instructed firmly, as he started the car, allowing the vibrations of the classic engine to relax him.

"But…I'm so tired," Sam whispered.

"Tough shit geek boy. Keep those eyes open until I say," Dean ordered

He hated to order his brother around in that voice, but it was the only way Sam was likely to listen to him.

He knew Sam would stay awake. _If he could. _

Dean looked in both side mirrors, before backing out of the driveway.

It had been one long hunt.

It was two weeks ago they had checked into the scant motel in the middle of Dakota.

Sam had read something in the papers about strange occurrences at an old steel mill on the outskirts of Aberdeen.

It was a poltergeist, but it had a different style. It turned out the entity was a fusion of three workers who, in their anger over the treatment of the workers, completed a suicide pact, and then jumping into giant mashing machines. Their remains were mixed, thus their spirits were joined and they had been wreaking havoc on the current shift.

The brother's did their research, and headed out and now, with their job complete, the weary travelers made their way back to the motel.

Dean's eyes flicked constantly from the road to his brother, and occasionally had to shake the younger man to ensure that he hadn't fallen into unconsciousness.

"Dude, lay off," Sam mumbled, swatting Dean's hand away as he began to shake him once more.

"Stay awake then bro, we'll be there soon," he said, turning his tired eyes back to the road.

"Whatever, just stop frickin' shaking me. It hurts,"

"Sorry man…"

Not more than five minutes later, the familiar sign loomed ahead and Dean executed the sharp turn into the motel.

Sam grumbled something incoherent and Dean chose to ignore it. Instead, he got from the car and rushed over to the passenger side, to help his brother.

"Dude, I'm not an invalid," Sam muttered, pushing unsteadily past his brother and digging around for the key for their room. He fished it from one of his deep jacket pockets and fumbled with the lock momentarily, swearing when it didn't turn straight away.

For a minute a wrestled with the stubborn lock, his vision clouding annoyingly as he did so.

Finally, the door swung inwards, admitting the brothers.

Sam collapsed onto his bed, and was about to slip off, until Dean flicked on the overhead light, blinding him momentarily, and causing the pain to flare.

"Fuck…" he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Sorry Sammy, but I need to look you over before you go to sleep." He said soothingly, disappearing into the bathroom to look for the first aid kit.

Meanwhile, Sam shuffled backwards so that his throbbing head was resting on the soft pillows.

Dean padded out, clutching the bag and a small bottle of rubbing alcohol, to clean the gash that was now visible on Sam's forehead.

"Sammy, this is gonna hurt a bit, so just grab my arm if it gets too bad," Dean instructed, placing a cotton square over the top of the bottle and shaking it, so that the square was covered with the liquid.

He then dabbed the wound gently, watching grimly as his brother's face pulled itself into a painful grimace.

"_Dammit!"_ Sam breathed, tears leaking from his eyes.

"Its okay man, I've finished cleaning it…but it does need stitches,"

_Oh god, I hate stitches…_Sam thought

"Okay, just hurry…I wanna sleep,"

Dean rummaged around and found the curved needle that he always used to stitch Sammy's wounds. He threaded black cotton into the eye of the needle and began to stitch the gash together.

Sam winced as the sharp needle pricked his skin and the feeling of his skin being pulled closed, made him feel physically sick.

"Dean…I don't feel so good…" Sam murmured as he felt his consciousness waning.

"Just hang in there for a second more kiddo," Dean assured, wishing himself that it was over.

"C-c-cant," Sam stammered, the shock setting in.

"Yeah you can Sammy," Dean said, not really believing either.

"D-d-dean…"

"Stay with me dude, I'm done,"

Sam's grip loosened, and Dean watched on, unable to do anything as his eyelids fluttered.

"Shit Sammy," Dean muttered as his brother lost consciousness.

He knew then and there that he wouldn't be sleeping that night.

He had to keep an eye out on his baby brother.

* * *

_**Well? What do you think? Should I continue? If so please review to tell me how I'm doing. **_

_**Thank you guys!**_


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER:**_ Don't own Supernatural, Sam or Dean. I only use them for entertainment. They lead intriguing lives…_

**A/N: **_That was just an introductory chapter, so it was a little slow…it'll pick up its pace, so stick with me! _

**WARNINGS: **_As always, general Sam and Dean angst, hurt and emotions. I don't like the idea of Wincest, so you don't need to worry…rated T just to be safe. _

**Better the Devil you know:**

**Chapter two:**

Dean yawned widely and checked his watch.

It was four o' clock in the morning, and he wasn't expecting Sam to wake up anytime soon.

So he got a shock when his younger brother called out for him.

"Dean…" his voice was low but laced with urgency.

"What is it bro?" Dean inquired, as he reached his brother in a matter of seconds.

"My head…ugh, its bad Dean," he said.

Dean swallowed heavily. His brother wasn't one for admitting his pain, unless it _was_ really bad.

"I'm gonna get you to a hospital Sammy, just hold up," the eldest assured, getting to his feet.

Sam's hand flew out and grabbed Dean by the wrist. "No! No. Please no hospital. I'll be fine,"

"Sam, c'mon. Be reasonable! You have a concussion! It'll be a whole lot better for your health if you saw a doctor," Dean insisted.

"You're my doctor," Sam replied with a wan smile.

Dean snorted softly. "Sammy, stop being stubborn!"

"I can't, I get it from you,"

_Well that much was true. _

"Would you let me at least call a doctor here to check you out?" Dean asked.

"No, he'll just refer me to a hospital. I'll be okay Dean. I just need some aspirin,"

The eldest Winchester sighed. "All right, but if you get any worse, I'm taking your ass to a hospital," he said, retrieving some aspirin and a bottle of water. "Here you go bitch, down the hatch."

Sam swallowed the pills compliantly, then snuggled back down into the pillows.

"Go to sleep Dean, I'll be fine," he said before dropping off into a light and pain filled sleep.

But Dean couldn't. His brother wasn't out of the woods yet, and he couldn't risk falling asleep on the job.

When Sam woke again, he was feeling slightly better. He could also hear the constant tapping of eager fingers on the keyboard.

He may have been feeling better, but the annoying noise tore through his head like a freight train.

"Dean, can you please stop it with the typing," he asked.

Not expecting his brother awake, he jumped and turned around. "You're awake," he said.

"Yeah, great observation Sherlock. So are you. Speaking of which, have you _actually_ been to sleep yet?" Asked Sam, struggling to sit up.

"I grabbed a few," said Dean, turning away to hide his face.

"Liar,"

_And Sam could __**still**__ read him like a book._

"I had to make sure your pansy ass didn't fall into a coma. I'm pretty sure that injury was bad enough for it," Dean said with a smile.

"Stop it with the melodrama! We've got a whole lotta other things to worry about than coma's, _McQueen_, so quit worrying," Sam shot back.

Dean just snorted. "So how you feelin' anyway kiddo?" he inquired.

Sam rolled his eyes. "A bit better, until I saw _your_ ugly face. Now I _want_ to be in a coma,"

Dean scoffed. "_My_ ugly face? Dude, you sure you're not looking into a mirror? Because I, your devilishly charming older brother, could never be ugly!"

Sam laughed. "Of course not. 'Dean Michael Winchester, _Gods gift to women_,'" Sam teased.

The eldest winked. "Damn straight little brother. But you're a little off. I _am_ God," Dean's face stretched into a wicked grin.

Sam repeated the eye roll. "Yeah, and I'm the devil's advocate…"

Dean's smile fell, and all humor was gone.

"Sam, don't even joke about that," he whispered.

"Oh come off it Dean, I'm over it. So what if one day one of those evil bastards gets into me. I've accepted it, so should you,"

Dean looked away, finding it hard to process the words that his brother was uttering, but what got him most, was the fact that he sounded so calm about it.

"Go back to sleep Sam, you could use the rest," Was all Dean could say.

"Dean…"

"Sleep, now." He growled, turning back to the laptop screen.

Moments later, Dean could hear his brother's gentle snoring. It was then he decided to let the tears that had been on the verge of falling for the last few minutes, spill down his cheeks.

_If only I had've been a better brother, none of this would ever have happened. _He thought to himself, wiping the tears away with the sleeve of his leather jacket.

Another voice in his head growled at him.

_Suck it in Dean; you have a job to do._

He drew in a shaky breath, and did just that, before continuing his search on the Internet, for any possible hunts.

* * *

_A restful sleep was no longer an option. _

_First he found himself floating, without a care, in the endless oblivion that was blissful unconsciousness, and now, he stood, overwhelmed by a furnace like heat. _

_His surroundings were rocky, and around him, angry flames licked, just about everything. _

_Tortured cries of agony echoed around the cavern. _

"_Samuel James Winchester…lovely to finally meet you," came a snakelike voice from behind him._

_Sam spun on his feet and came face to face with the most hideous creature he had ever laid eyes on. _

_He was wearing a long black cloak over his gaunt frame, and jagged teeth protruded from thin lips much like a sharks. _

_His skin was burnt, blistered and bleeding, and his eyes were a deep red, full of hatred and malice. _

_Sam couldn't help his fear at the being that stood before him, and he knew he was shaking visibly. _

"_W-what do you want?" Sam inquired, trying to sound strong, but the squeak that came out was a far cry. _

_This just made the thing grin wider. _

"_Sammy, Sammy, Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. I thought you were intelligent! The side kick 'geek boy.' The __**brains**__ of the Winchester bunch. I see now that I'm going to have to dignify you with an explanation, even if it does take up my precious 'torture the damned' time. _

_"Oh well, nothing ventured, nothing gained I suppose. You see; you and your brother are very special young men. Deanie boy may not show it, but he has a power too. He's just not worth my time…you, however; intrigue me. Most of the other children accepted their fates long ago to my most loyal advisor, my scout. _

_"But for some reason, you just wouldn't buckle…so I am deciding to take matters into my own hands. For now I will let you go, unharmed, but warned. Join willingly, or I will make you and your brother's life a misery. Now be off, but before you go, I want you to see someone…GIBBON!" _

_the being turned away from Sam and looked around, smiling when a Gollum-like creature slunk into their midst. "Yesssss masssster?" It hissed, its eyes hungrily on Sam. _

"_Bring him to me," he ordered. _

"_Yesssss of coursssee…" The creature loped away and was gone for a little over five minutes, before returning, dragging a misshapen lump behind him. _

"_**This**__, Samuel…is what is left of your father…" the being explained as the small creature rolled the older man over. He groaned slightly, but his eyes were glued shut. _

_He also looked very much like the being before them. Burnt, scarred and bleeding. _

_Sam felt sick. "D-d-dad?" he stammered, tears forming in his eyes. He took a step forward, but an unseen force stopped him. _

"_I don't think so…its time to go back to Dean, but you will see your father again…goodbye!" _

_And with a lazy flick of his disfigured hand, sent Sam, screaming into oblivion…._

* * *

A ragged scream tore his brothers lips, and he was by his side in seconds.

Dean slid to a halt by Sam's bed, and watched in fear as his sibling shook fitfully, a sheen of sweat forming on the younger Winchester.

"Come on bro, snap out of it!" Dean urged, shaking his brother.

Sam's eyes flew open, and he shot up, straight into Dean's arms.

"Dean…o-oh g-g-god…" Sam sobbed, his body shaking violently.

"Sam, was it a vision?" Dean asked firmly.

"I-I-I-think so," he stammered.

Dean waited for a few moments before pushing on. "Well?"

"I-I think I was in h-hell…Dean it was so hot…and the noises. They…" Sam choked on a fresh wave of tears.

"What Sammy? What did they do?" Dean asked, gripping his brother's shoulder, in what he hoped was comforting.

"They…" he swallowed the bile that was rising in his throat. He continued in a hushed whisper. "They showed me dad,"

Dean was silent, his heart beating faster.

"They showed me dad…and it was so horrible Dean! He's was so…"

Sam didn't finish. He swung out of bed, and rushed to the bathroom, making it to the toilet in time to throw up.

He hadn't eaten; so all that came up was stinging bile.

Dean stuck a flannel under the hot water tap for several seconds, and pressed it to the back of Sam's neck.

"Sammy, bro, are you okay?" Dean asked.

Sam looked up at his brother with fearful eyes.

He whimpered.

That _definitely_ was not a Sam sound. Dean could feel his concern rising.

Dean crouched down and pulled his brother into a one armed hug. "Sammy, its okay…"

"No, its not Dean, I…oh god…I think I'm gonna…"

The youngest didn't finish his sentence. His head lolled forward and his body went limp in Dean's arms, indicating that he had passed out for the second time that night…

* * *

_**Well? Is it picking up? Getting better? I really hope you enjoyed reading it, cuz I enjoyed writing it. thanks to all who reviewed. **_


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